


in the quiet of the night

by Werepirechick



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Animal Death, Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Gen, Guilt, Hypothermia, Late Night Conversations, Make TDP Elves Inhuman Looking 2k18, Missing Scene, Sickfic, aka obviously speaking Moonshadow Elves are a species evolved specifically to hunt other shit, but otherwise its a lot of Kids With Mixed Feelings - the fic, ezran has a case of the chillies whoops, hunting! because that's the logical solution to no more food, post ep 6, pre ep 7, rayla is super sorry about your dead dad kiddos, so i'm gonna highlight that a lil here, with a slight tang of "Maybe Romance??" haha, you don't dump a kid in an icy lake and expect him to be fine k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick
Summary: They get Ezran’s clothes off him soon as they possibly can, wrapping his small frame in Rayla’s cloak and hurrying to find shelter. Rayla carries him, clutching Callum’s little brother to her chest and plowing through the snow drifts one after another. Callum stumbles and shivers and keeps pace, eyes never leaving Ezran’s diminished form.





	in the quiet of the night

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i really love the dragon prince already, but my muse went "excuse me where's the aftercare part of people falling through fuckin ICE" so here we are.
> 
> no critiques of the series whatsoever, except that a) this scene was missing and b) yall could make the elves EXTRA awesome if you went a lil more ham with the xeno characteristics, you know what i'm saying?
> 
> enjoy my rambling fic of stuff i just wanted to see exist.

They get Ezran’s clothes off him soon as they possibly can, wrapping his small frame in Rayla’s cloak and hurrying to find shelter. Rayla carries him, clutching Callum’s little brother to her chest and plowing through the snow drifts one after another. Callum stumbles and shivers and keeps pace, eyes never leaving Ezran’s diminished form.

Ezran looks so- small, like this. Violently shivering, lips blue and eyes hazy. Hypothermia is as deadly a foe as any other they’ve faced on their journey, maybe even more so. Callum _just_ got Ezran back, after feeling his heart grow colder and colder as his brother was under the ice for seconds, minutes- an eternity, it felt like.

Callum can’t lose his little brother. Not like this, not after everything they’ve been through.

“ _There!”_ Rayla hisses through her teeth, blown wide pupils locked on something up the mountainside. The tips of her long ears are a dark, flushed purple, and her breathing comes in sharp gusts past her elongated canines.

Callum squints, the gloom of night turning everything murky beyond his immediate surroundings. Rayla might be able to see, but he can’t. “What? What’s-”

“A cave! We can start a fire, get him warm,” Rayla says, hopeful and determined. She starts forwards again, this time upping the pace to a sprint. Callum envies his elf friend’s endurance and strength as she races on; his legs are burning and his face is numb. He’s got a stitch in his side, on top of frozen toes, and the egg and Bait’s combined weight on him do nothing to help.

Still, they’ve got a chance. Callum shrugs the backpack into a better position and holds onto Bait tightly, plunging after Rayla and using her footsteps as a path to follow.

Bait croaks in his arms, a myriad of colors shifting across his smooth skin. Callum feels his brother’s pet shivering, too, and tries to shield Bait from the winds. Bait pushes his face against Callum’s neck, making the same mournful croaking noise again.

Callum clues in the second time around. Bait is scared.

“It’s- ok-kay,” Callum says, teeth chattering. His clothes are freezing to his skin, after getting them damp while undressing Ezran. “Rayla’s got Ez; he’s gonna be ok-kay”

Bait croaks, low and worried, curling tightly to Callum’s chest.

Callum feels much the same, the fear and hope and adrenaline mixing inside him. He presses on, trying to close the distance between him and Rayla as they both rush to save Ezran’s life.

 

 

 

Ezran is somewhat delirious, but he’s conscious. The king- Ezran’s dad, Callum’s stepfather (their dad, his dad)- Harrow. He sat them down years ago for a thorough talk about the dangers of winter. If someone gets cold, gets _really_ cold, you can’t let them fall asleep. Or, they might never wake up again.

“Eyes on me, Ez,” Callum coaxes, trying to get his brother’s eyes to stay open.

“I am,” Ezran says blearily, rubbing his face and blinking unevenly. He’s so exhausted, it’s clear in every movement.

Callum raises a closed fist. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three-...” Ezran yawns. “Three behind your back.”

Callum smiles, taking his hand out from behind his back and showing the three fingers.

“You always do that trick,” Ezran complains fuzzily.

“Not always,” Callum says. “Sometimes I do four fingers instead.”

Ezran doesn’t laugh. He just nods vaguely and curls deeper in the cloak wrapped around him. He’s still shivering, which is good. If he’s shivering, that means he’s still got a decent chance of making it through this alright.

Rayla dumps another log onto their fire, standing up and staring hard at Ezran. The light from the flames reflects off her eyes, making them shine in a distinctly not-human way. She’s doing that thing where she’s so still Callum wonders if she’s even breathing; her shadow climbing up the wall of the cave and distorting with the wavering fire’s light.

“Keep him warm,” she says abruptly, coming back to life and stepping away from their small circle. She’s headed for the mouth of the cave and Callum has to twist to follow her silent, swift movements.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“He won’t keep off sickness just with this. I’m gonna get us some food.” Rayla turns back for a brief moment, giving him a lingering glance. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

She disappears out into the snowfall, which has started to come down harder since they got settled in. Callum doesn’t even get a chance to respond.

Ezran sneezes, shivering harder. Bait crawls a little further into his owner’s lap, making a low little rumble as he turns concerned colors.

“Hey, c’mere,” Callum says, moving closer and maneuvering their positions. Ezran mumbles something quiet and upset, and Callum tucks his little brother as close to his body as possible. There’s not much else he can do until Rayla comes back, besides try and warm up Ezran, and watch to make sure his brother’s clothes don’t burn while they dry by the fire.

The fire flickers and burns, warming Callum as well as Ezran, and the egg across the cave glows faint and slow.

 

 

 

Callum is talking to Ezran about whatever’s passing through his head- right now, a book they’d been reading together before they left home, he misses their reading cubby and their rooms and _home_ \- when there’s suddenly a figure outside the cave.

Callum startles badly, bumping Ezran and making his brother cry out in surprise. Bait croaks and slithers out of sight behind them. The figure walks into the cave with a glinting blade in their hand, pale snow melting atop their equally pale hair.

“It’s just me,” Rayla says softly, and Callum relaxes.

“Sorry,” Callum says, feeling frazzled. “I’m just- a little high-strung, I think.”

 Rayla offers a small understanding smile, and flicks her long, twining blade back into its sheathe; hooking it across her back again.

“Hi, Rayla,” Ezran greets, a little more alert now that he’s warmer. He’s still shivering, though.

“Hi, Ezran,” Rayla replies with a smile, coming closer. Her bad hand is hanging carefully against her side, and she minds it as she unhooks a dark bag from her belt. “Here. I got somethin’ that should help you get your strength back.”

Callum notes the sizable weight of the bag as Rayla sets it on the ground; watching with interest as their friend undoes the tie keeping it closed. The first thing he sees are ears sticking out.

“You- oh.” Callum stops short, finally noticing the blood that speckles Rayla’s arm and light armor. Her hands are faintly reddened, probably hastily washed in the snow before coming back.

“Not quite like Xadian game,” Rayla says, lifting the two winter white rabbits from the bag, “but they taste alright. I had a couple brown ones when my- I mean. I’ve had them. It won’t be but a moment to prepare them.”

Callum pretends to not notice Rayla’s omitting of her assassin troupe. That’s not something any of them enjoy talking about, given it reminds everyone just why Rayla met them in the first place, and why her hand is turning dark and deathly.

“I like rabbit stew, the cooks always make it the way our mom taught them to,” Ezran says, leaning forwards and letting the cloak’s hood fall off. His hair is no longer weighed down by frozen water, coils messy from their rough treatment lately. “Have you ever had it? Rabbit stew?”

“Is that what these are called?” Rayla asks. She looks at the rabbits she’s cut the throat of, examining their stained fur. “Huh. I was just callin’ them hoppers.”

“Well, they do hop,” Callum says, trying hard not to linger on the slashed skin of the animals.

“And give me a right run for my money, hiding in the snow like they did,” Rayla says with a proud grin. “Not that it wasn’t anythin’ I couldn’t handle.”

“Of course,” Callum agrees, because he has _seen_ what Rayla can do, and rabbits are far from a difficult opponent for her.

“Can you make a spit, Callum?” Rayla asks, gingerly taking a rabbit into her bad hand. She drops the other into the bag again, and draws her blade. “I’ll gut and skin the rabbits, an’ then we’ll cook ‘em up for poor Ezran here. Warm food does wonders for any sickness.”

“ _Please,”_ Ezran says miserably, still pale and cold, even after warming up some. Bait croaks his own interest in a meal, and Callum’s stomach rumbles. He hasn’t eaten much lately, either, and with all their supplies gone…

The options are down to eating the game Rayla’s brought back, or going hungry. Not much of a choice, and hardly a thought to it.

Rayla is quick and steady with her blade, even with a hand that’s drawing close to invalid. She guts and skins and then cuts up the rabbits in as short a time as it takes Callum to find a good spit. She gets blood on her hands again, some going up her bracers as she pulls out entrails, and Callum tries not to think about how at ease Rayla is during the process.

She’s told them she’s never taken a life. They’ve only just gotten out of a mess that could have killed them all, all because Callum and Ezran couldn’t trust Rayla with the egg. Callum doesn’t _want_ to doubt their friend’s words, especially after all that, but…

Rayla’s original intentions towards them, however recanted, were serious enough she was willing to risk losing her hands.

But now she’s willing to lose one, rather than kill Ezran.

Callum wants to trust Rayla, wants her to be their friend. But her deadly fighting skills, the oath she took to kill their father- the missing ribbon. She’d had two, when they met.

And now there’s only one.

Callum doesn’t think on that. He can’t. He won’t. The whole thing is too complicated to pick apart and would just hurt their mission to return the egg. He just takes the meat once Rayla has finished skewering it on the spit, and sets it across the fire to cook. He makes small talk with Ezran while the rabbit sizzles in the flames, and doesn’t look towards Rayla as she goes to the mouth of the cave to wash off in the snow.

 

 

 

Callum falls through the ice, deep and black and cold. He’s swimming after someone, he’s trying to get away from someone, he knows someone is gone.

The egg is drifting downwards, out of his reach and not getting any closer no matter how hard he kicks his legs. Callum can’t see Ezran, can’t find his little brother- the egg is pulsing with light, a heartbeat of the being inside, the only thing Callum can see in the watery depths of the lake.

Callum can’t find his little brother, his lungs are burning. He’s so cold, and so tired, and something in him is aching. He’s lost Ezran, they’ve lost their home, they’re lost-

The egg glows as he reaches towards it, fingers finally skimming the hard shell.

Its light goes out, and Callum is plunged into all-consuming darkness.

 

 

 

Callum opens his eyes slowly, feeling the heavy dread of his nightmare still. The flames of the fire are lower than earlier, flickering just high enough to light the cave.

Callum feels Ezran’s body close to his, huddled near and chest moving in even, deep breaths. Across the fire from them, Callum sees Rayla sitting upright, very much awake.

He sees her holding her blade in an awkward, purposeful position. Using her bad arm’s elbow and her knee to hold the grip, while her good hand slides a small stone along the edges of the weapon. Callum realizes the steady _shik, shik, shik_ of the stone against the metal is what woke him from his dreams.

Rayla is biting her lip in concentration, pointed teeth peeking out over her lavender skin. Callum breathes in a little deeper without intending to, and Rayla’s ears swivel towards the sound a split second before her eyes follow, quick as a whip.

Rayla looks every inch the assassin she trained to be, whenever someone startles her wrong. All coiled muscles, poised to attack at the first sign of movement. Callum freezes as her sharp gaze holds over him, firelight in Rayla’s eyes as she also holds very, very still.

In this moment, Callum remembers again the stories about Moonshadow Elves being monsters, and can understand why people tell them.

But, Rayla doesn’t spring forwards and rip out their throats, as such goes the stories. She just comes unfrozen and sets down her whetstone, whispering quietly, “You’re awake.”

“…Yeah,” Callum replies. “You are, too.”

“Someone has to keep watch,” Rayla says, gesturing at the cave’s exit, and then Callum and Ezran, and then the egg as well. “Moonshadow Elves are most awake an’ aware at night, anyway. This is my usual waking hours back home.”

Callum almost nods, but remembers Ezran cuddled under his chin. He stays still instead, keeping his voice low as he says, “Must be nice, being awake all night. It’s so quiet.”

Rayla laughs softly. “It’s less quiet when you got a whole clan and village awake, too.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. It’s quiet in the castle, though. Everyone’s sleeping, and I get a few hours before bed where no one bothers me while I’m drawing.”

“I get something a little similar, but it’s the opposite time of the day. I like to use it for extra practice on my own.”

“Neat.”

“Yeah.”

Their brief conversation lulls and Rayla picks up her whetstone again, returning to sharpening her weapons. Callum watches her, somewhat entranced by the steady, smooth motions. Every stroke is practiced, showing no hesitance or falter. Caring for her blades is as refined a skill as any other Rayla seems to possess.

The glint of the elf’s weapon in the firelight is- a little scary, a little comforting. Weirdly both at the same time. Not too long ago, miles and miles back to where he first met her, Rayla pointed those blades to his neck and told him she was there to kill him.

For the rightful heir to the throne, for his little brother, for _Ezran_ \- Callum had been willing to die.

And then she hadn’t killed either of them, had even tried to stop her own people’s attack before she swept them away from the chaos and danger. Rayla took the blades she’d pointed at Callum’s neck, and turned them instead on anyone else who threatened their little trio.

“I thought you said you’d never killed before,” Callum hears himself say, thinking still about how easily she’d killed the rabbits. Then he flinches up as Rayla turns wide eyes on him, saying, “Sorry, sorry- I didn’t meant to say that. Animals are different, right? I just-…”

Rayla stops her sharpening, putting down her whetstone again. Her long ears flicker as she stares at him, letting the silence stretch. Callum wants to squirm, but he doesn’t want to wake Ezran.

“Just what?” she asks finally, accent catching on her words. Callum can’t read her expression, and he worries he’s overstepped himself.

“It’s just- it’s just you seem like you did it no problem. Killing the rabbits, fighting people and monsters. Sorry, I’m making it sound like I don’t trust your word again, ‘cause I do, I really do. You just…” Callum gives up. “I’m talking nonsense, sorry. Ignore me.”

Rayla tilts her head a little, white bangs shifting as she does. She’s silent for a moment, and then speaks.

“I haven’t taken the life of a civilized being, no,” she says. “But I’ve hunted since I was wee, Callum. And, I’ve been training to fight just as long. It’s a part of the cycle of things; life an’ death, fighting to survive, an’ eventually returning to the earth, where we all come from in the beginning. It _is_ different to kill an animal than it woulda been for me to kill a human, but not like how you’re thinking. I killed the rabbits so we could eat, and I’ve honored their death by turning their strength into mine.

“It’s not the same as killing a person. A person, to kill them without reason… it feels wrong to me. I don’t gain anything from killing without purpose, and that person’s family loses everythin’. If I had to… I would. If it came down to a choice between one of you, or me, or all three a’ us living or dying at the hands of an enemy- I’d kill the enemy.”

Rayla pauses, taking a moment to breathe. Callum watches her blink slowly, ears drooping slightly.

“It’s what I was trained for, anyway,” Rayla says, touching the cold metal of her weapon with her fingertips. “It’s what I always knew I’d have to do, someday.” Her ears dip further, and she doesn’t meet Callum’s eyes. “I’m sorry if that scares you.”

“Wh- no, no Rayla.” Callum sits up quick as he can without disturbing Ezran. He didn’t mean for his stupid question to make his friend upset, dammnit, dammnit. “It doesn’t scare me. Well- I mean, a little, it scares me a little, but- not of you. I’m not scared of you; I’m just… a little spooked by how good you are, sometimes.”

She snorts. “Spooked would be the same as bein’ scared, Callum,” Rayla says dryly.

“It’s really not,” Callum insists. Rayla doesn’t look convinced, and he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated none of this is coming out right. “Look. I don’t even really know what I’m trying to say here, but… I’m pretty amazed by what you can do, Rayla. The fighting, the hunting- I know _I_ couldn’t have found snow colored animals in a snowy mountain forest. And I also know I couldn’t’ve done half the stuff you’ve done for us.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Rayla says, “I can’t do half the stuff you do, either. Creating lightning in the palm of your hand? The only way I’d ever manage that is if I stood in a thunder storm waving my arms at the sky.”

“Then we’ll split the difference,” Callum suggests with a small smile. “I can’t do what you do, and you can’t do what I do. Though I think we’d be a bit better off if me an’ Ez could do even a couple of the things you can, Rayla.”

“Maybe,” Rayla says, smiling back for a moment. “But I doubt you squishy humans could manage even a single day of training. Your bones break ridiculously easy, did you know?”

“I did not know that, and I don’t wish to know more of why you know.”

Rayla laughs, the sound light and strangely cute. She can be prickly, dangerous, and terse, but then Rayla has moments where she smiles or giggles and seems so- normal. Like any other girl her age (or, any _human_ girl the equivalent age to whatever Rayla’s is).

Even without the circumstances that threw them together, Callum wonders if he would have ended up friends with Rayla anyway. He thinks they might have.

Callum huffs and lies back down with Ezran, putting an arm around his brother to draw him close again. Rayla resumes her sharpening, adding the quiet _shik_ of the stone to the crackle of the dying fire.

After a long period of easy quiet, a thought surfaces in Callum’s tired mind.

“Hey, Rayla?”

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, still. For what I said about Moonshadow Elves to my aunt. You’re not monsters at all.”

“…Thank you, Callum.”

Callum opens his eyes, looking for Rayla’s expression. She’s bent over her blade, head lowered and hair falling in her face. Her horns stem from her white hair, proud and alien and nearly familiar, now, after so many days and nights seeing them.

Callum still understands his past self’s fear of Rayla, back in that hallway of the castle. But, he also doesn’t quite anymore.

Rayla is a good person, he’s fairly certain. And she’s someone he appreciates having as a friend, not just because he wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of her blade. Because she cares for the world, cares for the egg- cares for Callum and Ezran, maybe. Callum thinks he’s starting to really care about her, in turn.

Rayla is kind, in her own way. Careful and self-aware, and not to mention braver than anyone Callum’s ever met. She’s a deadly Moodshadow Elf, and she’s his friend. Maybe even a close one, in time.

“I promise I’ll trust you better, from now on. You’re our friend, I know you’ll have our backs,” Callum says, voice hushed as sleep creeps into him again. He looks to the egg in the corner, its dimming glow a problem for once Ezran is better.

The egg is why they’re all together like this, the reason any of them met. It’s been one hell of a burden to carry, the egg’s fate, but Callum is at least grateful it’s also given him a friend for all his troubles.

He thinks Rayla replies to his words, but her voice doesn’t get through to him as he slips away. Later, in the morning, he doesn’t remember the latter part of their conversation at all.

 

 

 

“You shouldn’t, Callum. I- I don’t deserve it. I’ve… I didn’t… your _father,_ he’s _-_ ”

“…Callum?”

“…”

“…You said I was brave. Well, I wish I were brave enough to have told you both, right from the start. You should know. I shouldn’t’ve hid it, an’ I shouldn’t’ve…”

“…I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have become your friend, even while I did that.”

“I’m sorry, Callum, Ezran. I’m so sorry.”

“…Sleep well. I’ll… I’ll try an’ become worthy of that trust. I promise.”

“I’ll make this right, somehow.”

 

 

 

When the cold morning light creeps into the cave, Callum wakes to a fire that’s been replenished in the night, and the sight of Rayla curled on herself on the other side of it.

Callum stares at the way she’s holding her dying hand to her chest, her unbrushed hair mussed and filthy as Callum and his brother’s is, and how she’s got a blade within easy reach, tucked near her body.

Rayla’s face is younger while she’s sleeping. No hard lines, no narrow gazes searching for threats. She doesn’t look peaceful, not like Ezran when he sleeps, being the little kid he still is... but Rayla looks less like things are weighing so heavily on her.

Even with- or maybe despite- or maybe _because_ they’re there… all the not-human aspects of Rayla are still there, while she sleeps, but they’re normal for her, they’re… pretty on her. Rayla is pretty. Horns, ears, teeth, facial markings and all. The way she’s sleeping, all her long, leanly muscled limbs held close to herself- it’s distinctly inhuman, and yet all the same- the way Rayla sighs in her sleep is endearing as her laughter can be.

Callum smiles to himself, before drifting off to sleep again.

He’s certain, in the half space between waking and sleeping, that he would have wanted Rayla as a friend anyway, had their situations not been so confrontational and dire. If they’d met as neutral parties instead of enemies, and gone from there.

Callum has fuzzy, unremembered dreams the rest of the early morning. Of home, of Ezran and Harrow, of the three of them happy and healthy. Of the castle filled with its usual bustling life and yet different. Lit with brighter colors, richer to the senses and halls busier than ever. Callum sees unfamiliar faces walking familiar corridors, songs and lights and magic following their steps, and he sees pale hair flashing in the corner of his eyes, a split second before a teasing fangy grin is right in front of him and bright laughter fills his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> and now i sit and wait for season two, great.


End file.
